Author
Topic: Voyage of the Empress (Read 51731 times)

"What is going on out here?" Several people came at the sound of the crash and Henri's excited outburst, the most noisome being the children of Lutetia, the painted lady. They clamoured over each other to see the banker in his disheveled clothing. Estelle and Peter Zimmerman were not far behind, Estelle looking rather breath-taking in a satin evening gown while Peter had obviously hit the bottle of gin rather hard after Vivi's bout of histrionics.

Two crewmen, thankfully neither of which was the gun-toting Abelard came to the scene as well. Apparently one of the Lutetian children intimated that there was a fight going on one of the decks...

In a miraculously short time, the banker recovered and put his clothes and himself into order. Ooh, this suit will last until the End of Days! said the tailor back then... silly to think of it now.

"Well, now that we are all here we should really go for a little drink as planned. Unfortunately, " a conservative banker's smile followed, "the children should will have to go to sleep. Can we?" he continued looking around at his companions, fully ignoring the children now.

Ellie nodded, then, without really waiting for any of the others, started heading back towards her cabin. She wasn't normally much of a drinker, but she had a bottle of sherry in her bags, a parting gift from one of her clients. It hadn't even been opened, but she had a feeling it would be empty before too much longer.

Mr. Brandford was confronted with a most unexpected situation, as the parties conversed Mrs. Zimmerman made eye contact with him, looking most fascinated with him in a way that she was obviously not fascinated with her gin besotted husband.

"Sherry's merry, but Gin is in, or so they say in Concord." Peter said with a bit of a slur. "I've a bottle or two of Belvedere in my cabin, we can have a nice little cocktail."

*Hmmm...Ilsa off to get some sherry, and Brandford, if he's not careful, might end up on the business end of Mrs. Zimmerman from the looks of it. And why not, the besotted male Zimmerman didnt look like his cuckoo could even make it out of the clock, much less "perform" its song. Where is that doctor anyway? Oh bugger them all to hell*

"Mmm..yes well, in that case Ol' Henri will see to Vivica", he muttered, annoyed and still perplexed at the recent events. He glanced at Brandford with a knowing look. "I shall catch up with you Frederick, I'll need a word later. But let it not be said that Henri ever stopped a man from getting his....gin!" He eyed Branford with a mischievous look, and excused himself.

Mumbling some more words under his breath, something about this probably not being a great time to split up, Henri proceeded to Vivica's cabin. On the way, he found an unopened bottle of champagne, leaning against a cabin door. Swiping it effortlessly, Henri continued on. Upon arrival, he surprisingly found Vivica's door unlocked and slightly ajar. He entered.

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

The banker had looked like he was going to be cornered by Mrs. Zimmerman, whom Ellie was taking an increasing and irrational dislike too. Mr. Zimmerman, as well. Henri had gone off somewhere, either to go check on Vivica like she had suggested, or to find his own liquor. She badly needed a drink. Her nerves were close to shattered, and she simply could not shake the feeling that she needed to escape this place, as soon as possible.

Her cabin door was still locked as she'd left it earlier, which was a comfort. It seemed like a whole other lifetime when she'd left the room, going to go have drinks with everyone. Well, she'd certainly have a drink now. She didn't know if there were any glasses in her cabin, but decided it made little difference.

The rocking motion of the ship slowly became more pronounced, followed byht e steady drone of rain and wind, the Empress had cut into an Atlantic storm and was riding the ocean swells like a pro. With her tonnage and high bow, the ship knifed through the waves with relative ease. Perhaps only a battleship of the White Fleet* could have made it as easily through the storm. The helmsman held the wheel with a white-knuckle grip, the radio operator signaled that communications were down for the duration of the storm, his last radio contact having been more than half an hour ago.

*****

"Mr. Brandford," Estelle Zimmerman said, stepping closer to the cleanly dressed banker, "I hope you forgive me this blatant abuse of etiquette, but perhaps we could retire to your cabin for a while. I wish for someone level headed to...speak...with." she said with a smile that hinted at something more than speaking.

*****Vivica looked quite forlorn in her cabin, ankle bandaged and elevated. A book lay discarded on the floor and the lady had a greenish tinge to her face. "Ah, Henri! I am simply delighted to see you! I have become terribly bored, and cannot bear to read as it makes feel most unsound." She said, covering her mouth for a moment, presumably to conceal some unladylike but normal bodily function. "Champagne, how delightful."

*****Words were scrawled across the vanity, Ilsa's one tube of lip stcik laying in broken, sticky pieces in the sink.

Alas, Alas for the LivingFor their Time is NighThe Magician has the Wand and the Cup He seeks the Sword and the PentacleThe Sword is brokenThe Pentacle is stolen

*****Ed's belly gave a lurching rumble, and he felt as if his bowels had been reduced to a jelly like consistancy. Han wasnt going anywhere for a while, and if he came too it would be with a craving for more of the Dragon, as some of the chinamen called opiates. He felt a cold sensation, a singular point like an ice cube in his body...the only thing that he could think of was Knuckle's gold ring...

Before she could stop herself, Ellie shrieked. Then she slammed the cabin door, and bolted. Hysterical. She was hysterical. But dammit, she had every right to be hysterical! I didn't write that. I know I didn't write that! But there was no one else! The cabin door was locked- I DIDN'T WRITE THAT!

Unbidden, her grandmother's voice echoed in her ears. "You're meddlin' with things you don't understand, girl. Your mother, God rest her soul, had the glamour, and talked to the spirits like you and me talk to regular people. As far as I seen, you ain't got it, but if you keep on mockin' the spirits, you're gonna have."

As it happened, the first cabin she came to was Vivica's, and the door was still open. Henri was there, too. Without waiting to be invited, she entered and leaned against the wall, still semi-hysterical.

It took seeing an immobilized, confused woman with one leg in the air for Henri's thoughts to turn from fear to carnal pleasure.

"Of course champagne!" he sashayed in dramatically."You did not think I had forgotten mi'lady?" Vivica looked properly confused as Henri had anticipated, but did not seem to contradict him. He counted on her addled state to see him through.

"And if the crew werent so busy with all the commotion on board just now, Viv...may I call you Viv?...yes, well then our Oysters would be here by now too! Where IS that cabinboy I wonder. Well, I see you are looking and most probably feeling better", Henri lied. I thought we would celebrate your recovery properly." Henri swiftly rose and fetched two glasses, not flutes, but they would do. He made a big show of popping the champagne, although the bottle did not cooperate and opened with a noise that sounded more like a wet fart than a pop. "Ahhh...here we are", he purred as he poured the champagne. As he did, Henri glanced at the book on the floor.

'The Rosicrucian Cosmo-Conception or Mystic Christianity, by Max Heindal', the front cover announced. There was also a picture of a cross, a heart, a rose, and some other fancy symbols. *Vivica, a Rosicrucian? no! it could not be, must be some other explanation*. Henri had heard of the book. Most everyone had. It was published earlier that year, and had swept the world of religion and the occult by the proverbial storm.

Henri decided agianst chatting about such a volume, instead fixing his eyes on Vivica's face. He was just about to coo something in her ear about massaging her leg, to help the bloodflow to her ankle, when Ilsa came staggering in!

This was the second time Ilsa had kept him from enjoying some flesh, he thought. First in his own cabin, and now here! Romance is not in the cards today, sonny, he thought to himself, and turned to Ilsa, irritated at first but then concerned, when he saw her quivering body and the delirious look on her face.

"Ilsa?! I thought you were...what happened now!?", he stared at her. "Tell me."

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Ellie leaned against the wall, gulping air and trying to calm down. "I didn't write it, but it was there. The door was locked." She reached into her purse and yanked out a piece of paper, tearing it in the process. Then she pulled out her pencil and jerkily scribbled the message she'd found scrawled across the vanity.

"Alas, Alas for the LivingFor their Time is NighThe Magician has the Wand and the Cup He seeks the Sword and the PentacleThe Sword is brokenThe Pentacle is stolen"

"I didn't write it, or at least, I don't remember writing it, and my cabin was locked!" She all but threw the peice of paper at Henri. Then she slid down against the wall until she was sitting on the floor.

The words seemed to linger in the air, as though they had mass. *The sword is broken...the sword is broken*. Henri was not sure what it was, but something about that passage had nudged his gray cells.

To Ilsa he said, "have some champagne, and do try to calm down. We need to think on this. It could be some trick madame! do not yet discount that possibility. Henri was proud of himself. He imagined he sounded like that great literary hero of the age, Sherlock Holmes. "Now look, you have made Vivica turn positively green! I do not doubt your word Ilsa, but we must be rational. Let us review", Henri was enjoying this temporary bout of clarity he was feeling. Perhaps it was the smell of fear in the room, including his own, that excited him. It was no myth. fear did have a smell.

He gave Ilsa another look, as if to say, I believe you, but we dont need Vivica feinting on us.

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Ed quickly shut the door when he noticed the banker walking dazedly towards him, undoubtedly deep in thought about some financial issue. The banker knocked and shouted for him to come out, but Ed just made sure the door was locked and waited for him to leave. Then there was some kind of commotion outside. Nervously scratching his beard, Ed felt more and more ill at ease. After some minutes had passed he was overwhelmed with nausea and lurched over to the sink wherein he unceremoniously emptied his bowels. It felt like he spent an eternity regurgitating Ed filtered the smelly stomach contents with his fingers, using water to dissolve as much as he could. He found Knuckles' ring in a cluster of spaghetti and cleaned it, then he slipped it into the doctor's bag. Looking down he noticed that he hadn't quite made it to the sink before his vomiting began.

"Now what do I do with you, Han?" he whispered. Then he put a glass of water to his lips and gurgled the water in his mouth. After spitting it out he smiled. "I need some mint" he joked to himself, then he took of his sweaty and smelly clothes, showered and put on a new uniform. The storm made everything more difficult and Ed was bounced back and forth in the small shower.

*************

Charles Edward Dainty Wainwright walked to the door and opened it. Spying a crew member outside he waved him in. It was Jimmy "The Seagull" from Ireland. He had gotten his nickname the time he fell from the ship, screaming and waving his arms. Hitting the water had only silenced him for a short while; apparantly the Irishman could not swim and an impropmtu rescue had been in order. It was Knuckles who had given him the nick and ever since then, Jimmy had personally experienced the full repertoire of Knuckles' cruel jokes.

"Unfortunately I found poor Han in a drugged coma. These chinamen love their opium too much, and it seems he has cut himself badly. I got a passenger's aid in getting him back here, but I now desperately need a gentleman's assistance. Could you perchance help me carry him to his room?"

The trip across the ship was hazardous, the storm making the ship difficult to navigate. After a while they had carried Han to his room, carefully putting him in his bunker. Ed waited for Jimmy to leave before he carefully planted opium and a dirty needle in the room. Fortunately all the crewmembers were on duty calming the passengers and keeping the ship afloat. Having read more than one Arthur Conan Doyle book, Ed carefully wiped the the needle for any fingerprints. Then he prepared another syringe with an extremely large dose and injected it into Han's veins. "You know that I know too much, my friend. It seems you will not escape the realm of Morpheus after all".

****************

The officer who had gotten his report and been shown the dirty needle did not seem happy. Apparently there was some kind of leak and he was busy coordinating the workers. He had also been looking for Han and Ed for some time. Ed excused himself and declined the order to get his arse down in the engines, for there were sick passengers to attend to.

Soon Ed was back in the guest area, free to move around and investigate at his leisure.

There is a treasure to be found. There is money to be had. Oh father, I will be a rich man once again, that I swear!

Thinking long for what seemed seconds to the outside, of the unexpected offer he recieved, Frederic has made the not very diffilcut decision. The moment for action, or at least for a serious talk has passed, and everyone seemed to hurry away. The mob dispersed as quickly as it came together, but there was still Estelle Zimmerman, looking wonderful. Well, to calm a distressed woman is a gentleman's duty after all... as being discreet, he quickly reminded himself, noting the leaving befuddled husband that wouldn't notice if the ship started to sink. Sorry my friend, if you cannot, someone else has to.

"Oh, how could I refuse someone as charming as you?" he asked softly with a smile, and offered her an arm like to Ilsa before; this time for a closer than social contact.

And so he retired with her to his cabin, determined to be not disturbed by anyone or anything for a long time.

Vivica looked at Ilsa's scribbled note and gave a thin smile, "If you ask me, which none of you have, this rather looks like some sort of magicians riddle. My husband patently dissapproves of my interest of such things, the Aegyptians and faerie roads and the like." Vivica said.

Ellie looked up at her for a moment. "To be sure, they are interesting. Until they start taking an interest in you." She'd calmed down a little, finally. "There is something horrid going on, and I for one have no idea what it is. I don't think I want to. But I have the feeling that we are in some very real danger, and d**ned if I know what we can do about it." She looked at the note again with undisguised loathing. "All though, this thing is recurrent enough that maybe it's a clue." She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. "A riddle. Maybe if we figure it out, we'll get out of this alive."

Henri stared at Ilsa as she concluded, and something finally dawned on him!

"I think I...I will be right back, dont move. No more splitting up. Wait here. I shall return quickly!"

With a delirious look in his face, and without waiting for a reply, Henri bolted from the the edge of Vivica's bed, and ran to his own cabin at full speed. Arriving at his door, he screeched to a halt, and caught his breath. After a few seconds he opened the door and looked around anxiously.

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

The ship was cutting through the storm like a razorblade through the skin of an old hag. Ed had never witnessed anything like it and he cursed silently as he witnessed the full fury of the storm from his restaurant window seat. There was a somber mood in the room and people seemed to be drowning their anguish in licquor. Ed even had to catch a drunken passenger as he fell over the table, losing his derby hat in the progress.

Returning triumphantly to Vivica's cabin, Henri tossed the vile horn-end high in the air. He watched as it landed with a dull noise on the floor near the bed, as if half-expecting it to change into a chimera in mid-air.

"There...I believe this is a bit o' yur broken sword", his accent wavered in his state of excitement. "I did not tell you how I acquired this piece. It was from a Furrier, or was it a Taxidermist. It was foggy, I remember that, and then this mad-eyed man came whizzing down the street. He threw me the horn-tip, claiming something about a 'riddle'." Henri paused and glanced from Vivica to Ilsa for effect.

"He said something about a sword, some broken piece, Ibex, necromancer...gods, I now wish I had paid some attention to his drivel! Anyway, he threw it me at me and stumbled along. Minutes later, while heading in the opposite direction, flicking my brand new lucky 'Unicorn Horn' in the air, I heard a stifled scream. A grotesque sound, I shall never forget." He paused again, but this time because he needed to.

"So, there is your broken sword, a piece of it I imagine. But what does this all mean?"

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Ellie looked at the riddle scrawled across the paper. She didn't know if they were going about this the right way, but it didn't matter; she needed something to keep her mind off of it. She stood up and started pacing restlessly. "It sounds like... there's someone looking for something. The Magician, whoever that may be. He's got two things he's looking for. The other two, the Sword and Pentacle, are missing. If what you've got is part of the Sword, then we know where at least part of it is. Sounds like we'd need the whole thing. Someone's apparently run off with the Pentacle, whatever that is." She frowned. "It sounds like it would be healthier for us if we kept this... Magician from getting all of these things." She was frustrated. "I wish I was more up on the Tarot. Never used it, because it seemed like to much effort to do it properly. Besides, everyone uses the Tarot, and I wanted to be unique."

Seaman Dexter Forodwaithe held tight to the ships rail, his arm shielding his face from the gale of the storm. He could see something moving in the clouds and sheets of rain. They look akin to birds, but were far too large. Something in his brain screamed bloody terror, though the message failed to reach his legs in time. The avian creature, the size of a several men laid end to end swooped low across the deck of the ship and drove its talons through the torso of Forodwaithe. His death scream was shrill as the cry of the bird. A second of the leathery creatures gave a great cry and snatched at Forodwaithe's limp body, trying to free it from the other.

With a grisly ripping noise, Forodwaithe split across the navel, spilling a good deal of blood and intestine across the deck of the ship. The creature holding the upper torso landed roughly and ripped the unfortunate, a very dead, man's head from his shoulders to gash at it with its teeth a moment before swallowing the pulpy mess. The second lighted at the base of the number one smoke stack and quickly gulped down the former Cornishman's legs.

Abelard glared at the creatures through the glass windows of the bridge...

*****Seaman Norvill screamed as he collapsed just inside the ship, his arm was savaged from shoulder to elbow. He tried to stem the spurts of arterial blood from the severed brachial artery, but only succedded in leaving vermillion splatters across the white washed steel. "OH GOD ED! OH GOD! IT HURTS!" he screamed as shock slowly sank through his body. He staggered against the wall, the door to the infirmary seeming so far away and dim.

*****The porthole that was Vivica's only access to light beyond an oil lamp was suddenly slapped with great force, casting the room into a momentary darkness that was replaced with a reddish hue of light that reminisced of sunsets, or perhaps a certain shade of watermelon on a hot day. Except that the red stain on the glass was very obviously blood...

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Ellie shrieked herself, but quickly got hold of herself. "This is so very bad..." She moved for the door. "I'm thinking we should get into the hall, away with the window. I don't know what's going on outside, and I don't really want to, I think." Clearly, things had gone from bad to worse. Either the mutiny had broken into full swing, or... or... She firmly pushed any other possibilities out of her head.

Ah, how I have come to love that sense of accomplishment and victory that I get when I pull the wool over the eyes of a clever player character. What DM Triumphs have you had?

Some of mine:1. Finally killing an incredibly powerful, lucky, annoying player's character.2. Finally achieving a TPK (Total Party Kill)3. Finally achieving a TPK using only traps4. Finally working out how to make it so that d**n wizard doesn't steal the spotlight all the d**n time.

Too bad forum gaming consumes so much time! If I had a human machine wetwire interface, in which I could type and read at the speed of thought, well, firstly the natter threads would be filled to the brim, and secondly I would be a better forum player. More diligent that is.